


(You Watch Me) Come

by lily_zen



Series: Infected (All This Sweetness Left to Rot) [2]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Ears, Exhibitionism, M/M, Submission, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_zen/pseuds/lily_zen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiyong begins having dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(You Watch Me) Come

(You Watch Me) Come

Fandom: BIGBANG RPF

Pairing: Nyongtory

Rating: M/R

Warnings: teasing, cussing, exhibitionism

Author: Lily Zen

 

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Author’s Notes: Set after the events of Unmade. Jiyong has a thing for ears, and so do I.

 

Disclaimer: BIGBANG is made up of real people, thus I do not own them. This is just for fun, not profit.

 

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The dreams start, and Jiyong’s got to admit they’re not totally heinous. He’s got a good imagination, always has, and his subconscious is all too ready to supply his favorite fantasies with Seungri in a starring role.

There’s one in particular that keeps showing up. In it, they’re sitting on an interview sofa with the other band members around them. Some faceless man is asking questions that are far too personal, and Seungri replies with a laugh.

“Jiyong-hyung likes having his ears played with,” Seungri says like he knows from personal experience, like they’ve done this before, which they haven’t.

His friend leans in close while Jiyong is fighting off a blush, and cups Jiyong’s jaw in his hand. Seungri’s hands are a little clammy, but infinitely gentle as he tilts Jiyong’s head to the side.

Jiyong isn’t sure why he’s not fighting this. It’s so embarrassing. There are people watching. He may play on stage with his sexual prowess, but he’d never contemplate doing something like this.

Seungri takes his earlobe between his thumb and index finger, rubbing the delicate flesh until Jiyong’s eyes close in pleasure. He has his sunglasses on, but he’s sure that not even those big, dark lenses are going to keep the cameras from noticing his joy at the touch. He grips his knees tighter as Seungri says, low and pleased, “See?”

He noses Jiyong’s long, feathered earring out of the way, and presses his lips softly to the bit of skin just behind Ji’s ear. They’re smooth and soft and curve up into a smile as a shudder races up Jiyong’s spine.

He knows he needs to stop this, but Jiyong is spellbound, wondering just how far this will go. This is certainly one of the most intense (and convincing) moments of fanservice he’s participated in. Maybe this is normal for Seungri? Maybe he just wants to see how far he can push the boundaries of propriety? Sometimes Seungri is like that; he just does shit because he wants to see how far he can go.

Then Seungri’s got his tongue on Jiyong’s earlobe, flicking it gently back and forth before he sucks it between his lips, nibbling.

Jiyong’s mouth opens and a shaky exhale comes out.

“Very responsive,” Seungri narrates to the camera, then licks a thick, wet line up the shell of Jiyong’s ear.

He mewls. He fucking mewls like a girl because _oh my god, yeah,_ that’s the spot.

Sometime during all of this, he’s shifted his grip from his right knee to Seungri’s thigh, blunt nails digging into the denim like he’s clawing for his last bits of sanity. Maybe he is, because this can’t be happening.

He can hear dimly that his band members are answering questions like this is all very normal. They clearly can’t see or don’t care that Seungri’s tongue-fucking his ear while his thumb, hand still gripping Ji’s jaw to keep his head tilted at the optimum angle, is rubbing in circles over Jiyong’s hammering pulse.

They don’t know that it is taking every ounce of self-control he has not to spring up out of his seat and mount Seungri right there, because this—yes, this—is _everything_.

Then Seungri nips his earlobe with his teeth, and Jiyong feels his control snap like a guitar string, raucous and dangerous, and then Jiyong wakes up in his bed alone and hard, and a deluge of shame slams into him.

He’s got too good of an imagination, and he’s too fucking old for revelations. He holds these thoughts in the forefront of his mind, a mantra to keep any other impulses at bay.

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_I think I’m sick_

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**FIN**


End file.
